“This is not a way to dance. No one dances like this,” I huffed.

“I’m not anyone, Rosebud. I’m Achilles Valencian. I don’t follow rules, I make them.” He pulled me deeper into his arms.

Sighing, I gave up.

While the others moved around the dance floor, he didn’t let even an inch of distance between us. When his one hand should be in one of mine and the other on my waist, both of his strong arms were firmly wrapped around me, keeping me against his chest. And mine were locked around his neck. He wouldn’t even move freely, just slow sways. As if no one in the world was watching us. But the glares of both single and taken women were unignorable.

When my neck started to hurt, craning to look at him all the time, I rested my cheek on his chest. Closing my eyes, I let him move us around in slow waves. His scent with every intake of breath lulled me to peace.

I remained silent as he played with my hair. “Don’t cut your hair ever again.”

My eyes opened, but I didn’t move my head from his warmth. He was talking about that time when I’d cut it short, assuming he liked it that way.

“Why?” I whispered. I didn’t have any plans to do something I’d done years ago out of my naivety. I was my own person now.

“Because it looks beautiful on you. And this is the real you. I don’t want you to change for someone else.”

I froze. He noticed my change for him? He noticed how I turned into someone else just to catch his eye? His words touched something deep inside me. He didn’t want me to change for anyone, even for him?

Not that I was going to do anything for him.

His fingers brushed against the fabric of my dress after he was done playing with my hair. Even if he minded I didn’t wear the red gown, he didn’t show it. Though the appreciation in his eyes for my appearance was clear.

I hated to admit it, but I liked it. I liked the way he looked at me every time we met. I hated to love it all. His gaze on me, his touch, his warmth, his scent, his dominance, everything single thing. And I had no idea how to stop myself from adoring these feelings.

My hand snaked to his left shoulder. “Does it hurt?”

“No. Just a little sore, that’s it.”

I nodded, still roaming my hand from his shoulder to his chest. The sharp inhale of his pulled me out of my trance. Pulling away from his chest, I once again tried to maintain some distance. And this time, he let me. But only a few inches.

It was better than nothing. I could at least breathe.